


Planned Parenthood

by Lumeneas



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Parenthood, nose kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-15
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-03-23 02:25:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3750964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lumeneas/pseuds/Lumeneas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Inquisitor has a question for her dear diplomat, but asking it will be a little complicated...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a while since I've written any fan fiction. Please give me any criticism!

Maraas Adaar gazed steadily at the Antivan woman sitting at her desk. She worked at a fairly fast pace, the result of years with the Inquisition. She had only gotten better after the defeat of Corypheus and the letters and requests from nobles and common folk alike came pouring in. Maraas admired her lover’s diligence despite her presence in the antechamber. The paperwork Josephine was working on must be very important if not even the seven and half foot tall Qunari could distract her.

“Josie,” Maraas called softly from the armchair, where she lounged languidly, relishing the feel of the fire warming her skin that always seemed perpetually cold. Josephine’s eyes flicked upwards before returning to the work at hand, but with a secret smile gracing her dark lips. Maraas leaned forward in the chair, coming to rest her elbows on her folded legs in front of her and her grey face in her hands. The chaise under her groaned in response, completely against the shifting weight of a full-grown Qunari, even if she was slighter than the males of her species.

They sat in companionable silence, Maraas patiently waiting and Josephine reading and signing papers at a mile a minute. Maraas could wait forever for the diplomat; her patience for the woman was never-ending. Especially today, she needed her to be completely finished with her duties before she spoke about a certain subject that had been on her mind for quite a while now…

Finally, Josephine leaned back in her chair with a delicate groan, rolling her wrists to work out the kinks and cramps. She turned her face towards her Inquisitor, her secret smile back in place, lips stretched smooth and dark. Maraas grinned back and stood up to walk the few steps to Josephine’s high backed chair. She went behind it and began gently kneading her lover’s shoulders, finding a comfortable rhythm to her ministrations. The human hummed and relaxed into the chair, abandoning her usual stiff posture under such delicious pressure on her back. It was silent, except for the crackling of the fire and the occasional pleasured sigh.

Maraas broke the silence. “Josie.” Another hum. “How do you feel about kids?”

A light tensing in the woman’s shoulders, before she released them with practiced skill. Maraas noticed, though; this conversation would not be handled lightly by either one of them and that was just as well.

“They are…nice enough,” she said carefully. Maraas frowned at the calculated response. She thought they were past playing The Game with each other. Her massive hands continued down to massage the wiry muscles of Josephine’s back, the result of recent activities with the Qunari woman.

“Have you ever thought about having some of your own?” she asked, troubled by the way her body tensed again under her hands. So this was to be a mine field, she thought, simultaneously wearied and excited by the prospect. Navigating the proceeding conversation would take all of her talent to make sure Josephine didn’t shut her out.

“Of course,” Josephine replied, shrugging off Maraas’ hands. She shimmied her chair out from behind the desk and went to stand in front of the fireplace, lips pursed and delicate fingers laced behind her back. Maraas saw the defensive stance for what it was and didn’t move closer, only leaned against the now unoccupied desk.

“But?”

Josephine snorted. “Despite the obvious obstacle of us both being women, there is so much to do. We have far too many responsibilities to even consider raising a child.”

Maraas always knew of Josephine’s practicality. She understood the all-too-valid points she was making but it still wounded her. After coming to Thedas and seeing all of the happy, bouncing babies in their mother’s arms, Maraas yearned for one of her own. But between the Conclave and defeating Corypheus, there had been no time. Now, though…

“You’re sounding a bit like Cassandra, love,” Maraas said, a bit jokingly but mostly serious.

“I just…” Josephine trailed, arms repositioning to cross in front of her. She rubbed at her arms, as if she were cold despite the warmth of her indulgent clothing and the even warmer room. She have an exasperated sigh and turned to face Maraas rather suddenly. Her expression was heartbreaking and it killed Maraas to just stand there and look at her. She rushed forward and curled her back to capture Josephine’s screwed up lips, gently massaging them into their regular, plump selves. Josephine responded in kind, warm fingers inching up the Qunari’s body to rest in the space between her breasts.

Maraas laid her chin on Josephine’s neatly coiffed hair and rubbed her back. She didn’t press for an answer for the sudden emotional outburst that was so uncharacteristic of the diplomat; all in good time. The smaller woman traced circles in her cleavage and Maraas enjoyed the fact that the silence was not uncomfortable.

“I know that there are…options for us, if we wish it,” Josephine began. Maraas loved the words ‘us’ and ‘we’ and felt they were pure gold that dripped from the Antivan’s luscious mouth. “But neither of us have any experience with raising a child. And, really, how much time do we have?”

Once again, she was right. It was very logical and Maraas accepted that. But, for once, she didn’t want to be logical. Nothing had been so since the Breach, so why should she now?

“That’s going to be the fun of it,” Maraas breathed, “No planning. No warning. Just the unpredictability that is a child.”

Josephine’s hand clenched against her chest and she huffed out a chuckle. She was obviously warming up to the idea. The Qunari allowed herself to imagine a pleasantly pregnant Josie, still working at her desk but resting much more often and fondly cradling her swollen stomach. The thought made her immeasurably happy.

“It does sound rather exciting,” Josephine admitted, craning her neck to look up at her lover. Maraas beamed and planted a warm kiss on her forehead, earning a scrunched up nose in return.

“Great, because I asked Bull—“

“Bull?” her partner interrupted, pushing away at last. Maraas scratched at the place behind her right horn, a comforting spot that spoke of her nervousness. “What does The Iron Bull have to do with this?”

And here it comes. “Well, it’s only one solution. In case we wanted one that was actually related to one of us—“

“Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?” Josie asked, appalled. The mine was right under her foot now. Maraas held up her hands in an appeasing manner, trying to calm the increasingly distressed Antivan.

“We don’t have to do it that way! We can adopt! Maker knows there are plenty of needy children out there. I just thought…”

Another exasperated noise and Josephine flopped rather ungracefully onto the chaise recently unoccupied by the Qunari. Her face was flushed a coppery color and Maraas had to laugh at the sight. She knelt in front of her and still had to curve her back in order to look the human in the eyes.

“It was just a suggestion, love,” she said, touching reddened cheeks with her silvery fingers, “I would never pressure you to do anything, you know that.”

“I know, I know,” Josephine conceded. She wrinkled her nose, “But The Iron Bull? Really?”

Maraas let out a great booming laugh, one that came from the bottom of her stomach and rippled out of her wide mouth. Josephine’s face changed from incredulous to amused before she finally laughed herself, a small giggling that was appropriate for a nobles salon. They ended with their foreheads pressed together, little hiccups of laughter still bubbling from their throats.

They looked into each other’s eyes, mirth present on the surface. Maraas loved this woman with all her heart; she’d follow her to the Void and back. She lightly touched the tip of her nose to the Antivan’s and followed the slope down to her lips, kissing first one corner, then the other before planting wide lips on Josephine’s pursed ones.

“We could always go with Dorian instead,” she whispered against Josephine’s lips. A groan followed and she let out another bark of a laugh.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maraas speaks to Dorian about her situation and receives a new mission.

Unfortunately, as if the entire world knew of the considerations, a complete mess of requests for requisitions came in to the Inquisition, many of them with deadlines. When Maraas simply scoffed and pushed the documents aside, Josephine pleasantly, with venom dripping from her words, reminded her of the importance of maintaining noble support. Maraas simply sighed and began packing for her three week excursion through southern Orlais.

“So, what’d she say?” Bull asked as they tramped through the Exalted Plains, an amused smile on those thin lips. Maaras had chosen Bull, Dorian, and Cole to accompany her on this trip, specifically for their involvement in the matter. Well, except Cole but she really couldn’t imagine taking Sera when all they would be doing would be talking about sex-related topics. Besides, Cole sometimes had valuable insight on matters of the mind and heart.

“She was thrilled with the idea, Bull, completely and utterly beside herself.” She couldn’t help the sarcasm. She used it on a regular basis ever since she became Tal-Vashoth and learned of its ingenious existence through a drunk man in Rivain. Maraas sighed; she wasn’t angry with Josie, she could never be. She was just a little disappointed with the lack of any decision in their conversation.

Bull laughed and flexed an arm. “Just couldn’t resist riding the Bull, eh, Boss?”

She rolled her eyes and she was sure Dorian did, too, although his position behind her prevented from such a view. His amusement was palpable, though; all the cautious jabs he used to throw at Bull had all but disappeared and they were now the best of drinking buddies, among other things. These ‘other things’ was why she asked them out of any other male in the Inquisition, in case her and Josie decided to go with that particular possibility.

“She’s afraid, but of what? Children, laughing, crying. Loving. Everything I want, but does she?” Cole appeared beside her suddenly, voicing her thoughts. The Qunari had learned to take it in stride, but couldn’t help the surprised flinch when he began talking at her shoulder. Those were definitely her doubts and she felt little embarrassment at their being spoken of aloud. After all, they were simple enough and nothing she hadn’t voiced to either of the other men. They were her confidants in the matter.

Maraas wondered at the lack of input from Dorian; she had expected at least one snarky comment by now, but had no far received the grand total of none. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted some shiny deposits of serpentstone along the cliff walls beside the road. She motioned with a quick flick of her horns towards the rock and rummaged through her pack for her pick and chisel. As she set to work, the Tevene leaned against the wall, arms over his chest. Maraas simply quirked an eyebrow and waited for him to speak, her patience endless for the ones she loved. She took her time extracting the stone, much longer that was needed, before he finally spoke.

“Why in the Maker’s name would you want to have a squalling brat?” he asked, a scowl marring his usually perfect features. Maraas stifled a snort at the way his mustache tilted up comically and then smiled. Neither Bull nor he had asked her that since she told them her plans, they simply went along with it. She suspected Dorian had believed she would get over it in a week or two. But she had wanted this for a long time, she just didn’t know who with.

It was one of the first things I saw when I go to Thedas,” she began, carefully carving out the ore for Lord Something-Or-Rather, “A little girl and her parents, all clutching each other as if a rift would suddenly rip open between them. I decided right as I stepped of that damn boat that I would get that. Somehow, someway, I would.

“Because you could feel the feel the love they had for each other. When I could see their eyes, it was obvious that the father adored his wife and would die for his daughter. And I wanted that.”

Dorian was quiet again and Maraas finished mining the glittering stone, satisfied with her answer. She tucked her find away in her pack and motioned for them all to move out.

\-------

When they all returned to Skyhold three weeks later, Maraas gave all of the requisition material to Dorian to take to the Quartermaster, ignoring his sputtering to do otherwise. She took the steps into the Main Hall three at a time, eager to see her lover after so long. She breezed past the petty nobles simpering for the Inquisitor’s attention and yanked open the door the led into the War Room’s antechamber where Josephine spent most of her time. The Qunari paused when she noticed her with someone. The carefully maintained expression on the woman’s face said that this person was discussing something very sensitive, to say the least.

“Ambassador, you simply must—“

“The authority to do that lies with the Inquisitor,” Josephine interrupted, holding up a delicately manicured hand, “And she will not be back for a few days, at least.”

Maraas took the opportunity to step forward, revealing her presence. Josephine’s eyes widened slightly before a small smile graced her lips. She gestured to the person in front of her to turn and they complied. Maraas’s brow came together as she realized the person was an elf. He was short and haggard, as if he had been travelling for days without stopping. His face was bare, betraying his city origins. He continuously wringed his hands in front of his belly, showing an extreme nervousness that told the Inquisitor of the situations urgency.

“What’s going on?” she said, calm as she stepped forward to the heavy oak desk. The poor elf seemed completely cowed by her imposing figure and began blubbering, trying to convey his purpose in being there. Maraas held up a hand and he fell silent, although sweating profusely. She motioned for him to sit on the chair before the desk and he complied. The ball of tension that his frame held relaxed as his sank into the velvet-covered cushion.

“I want you to explain what you need slowly and clearly, alright?” she asked, sitting on the edge of the desk. She desperately wanted to hold the Antivan’s hand in hers as the man talked, but knew the woman would never allow it.

“Slavers. In Redcliffe,” he replied, enunciating every syllable despite the obvious need to do otherwise, “They took a lot of us and then went north. But I heard them talking about coming back soon.”

Maraas was immediately alarmed; slavers this far south? It was next to unheard of and operations were scarce and normally put down in their early stages. And the fact that they were able to swoop in and flee just as quickly was troubling. She looked back at Josephine with worry written on her face and the woman nodded is response.

“One of Leliana’s confirmed the incident and has been tracking the caravan ever since. You could go directly to the source,” she remarked, pen poised above some paperwork. The Qunari looked back towards the distressed elf and nodded her assent. He face turned overjoyed and he fell to his knees before her, blubbering his thanks. She heard something about a wife in the midst of his words and she just nodded and smiled.

He left, still murmuring his praise, after Maraas finally convinced him to go get food and rest. She collapsed onto the chaise as the door finally shut and groaned aloud. She was soon joined by Josephine and the furniture creaked loudly under them, unused to so much weight. The Antivan kissed her softly on the lips and Maraas was pleasantly surprised by her lack of ‘propriety’.

“Welcome home,” she whispered, giving her another peck.

Maraas smiled sardonically. “Yeah, glad to be back for five minutes.”

“I’m just as disappointed as you are,” Josephine said. She sighed, “And you have so much paperwork to go through, too.”

                The Qunari grimaced and turned onto her back, arm flung over her eyes. She felt Josie sidle up beside her to press herself flush against her side. Maybe she should only for five minutes all the time; doing so seemed to make her lover lose all sense of decorum she normally held so dear.

“At least this for a good cause,” she muttered. Josephine took to staring at her hands while drawing circles into the Qunari’s bicep. She let her lips curl at the sensation, relishing the light touch. It was these moments that Maraas enjoyed the most; the soft, quiet moments where they could ignore responsibility and lose themselves in each other. Her eyelids slowly fluttered down to meet her cheeks despite the pressing urgency of the slavers harassing the Redcliffe elves. She would leave soon. All she wanted was a bit of time alone with the one she had come to love since receiving the Anchor.

“Marass?” Josie said, continuing the motion with her fingers. She hummed in response, her mind slowed with her dozing.

“What if…you were to carry?” she asked, tentatively. Maraas wasn’t surprised at the question. She, of course, had thought of the possibility, but with all this Inquisitor business, didn’t see how it would be feasible at all. She went on too many dangerous missions and she would risk a miscarriage every time she rode a horse at a gallop, which was often out in the field. No, if they had a child that was biologically one of theirs, Josephine would have to carry it. It was unfortunate that it had to be that way, and she wished she could just take off for a year or so, but there were just too many things to be done. Which, she supposed, is why Josephine was unwilling to carry the baby as well.

She smiled sadly as her lover and turned her head to gently press her lips to the Antivan’s caramel colored forehead. She vaguely tasted sweet as well, the result of the multitude or Orlesian and Antivan bathing oils the woman used ritually. Josephine to understand and accepted the affection before raising herself to a sitting position, facing away from the Inquisitor.

“You know, adoption is always an option, too,” Maraas said, pushing herself up onto her elbows, “And there’s this thing that some of the nobles are trying. It’s called—surrogacy, yeah. We could just—“

“I know,” Josie said in a small voice, deflating ever so slightly. Again, the Qunari had no intentions of pushing for an answer and simply waited for the woman to speak of her own accord.

“No child deserves this life,” she whispered, getting to her feet to go stand alone in front of the ever-roaring fireplace, “I have learned to love the politics, the intrigue, but no one should be born into this. They’d be the object of so much public scrutiny…”

Ah, there it was. Maraas lifted herself up and took large steps to where Josephine stood, silhouetted by the firelight, and enveloped her in a crushing embrace.

“They would never be forced to do anything,” she said thickly, in complete agreement with her partner, “They will have us and a whole circle of people to make sure that never happens.”

Josephine only clutched at the fabric at the Qunari’s back and pressed her pretty face into her chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments! It's really motivated me to continue this. I'd forgotten how good it felt to get feedback on fan fiction!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Inquisitor receives a blessing from the Maker.

Maraas left later that day, again with Dorian at his insistence. Together with Blackwall and Cole, they set off towards Lake Calenhad to try and catch up with the apparently fast-moving caravan. Before she left, she instructed Cullen to dispatch a unit of soldiers to Redcliffe to protect the remaining citizens, especially those of elven descent, from any other slavers that might have broken off from the main contingent. The Qunari then shouldered her back, mounted the sturdiest horse, and set off at a steady gallop.

She was indeed thankful for the lack of bickering between Dorian and Blackwall; it didn’t matter that they had defeated Corypheus together and, all in all, had no real gripe with each other. They simply just seemed to rub each other the wrong way. But, as long as they got their work done, Maraas generally did not get involved. She was so tired, though, she might have on this mission.

They camped as soon as night fell, leaving Cole to keep watch as he didn’t need to sleep. She watched him stare out into the night, floppy hat twitching ever so slightly whenever he caught some small thought out there in the darkness. To be honest, this was the really the only reason she brought him along, although he was very useful besides.

She could feel the exhaustion in her bones and mind, but she couldn’t seem to fall asleep as quickly as she wanted to. Her eyes burned as she lay on her side, just watching Cole watching out for them all. Her mind could only sluggishly contemplate the whole baby thing with Josephine. Maybe the Maker would just tap Josie’s womb and pop a child in there and they could just stop worrying their hair into knots.

“Eyes, everywhere eyes,” Cole said, suddenly, “The blindfold is only so thick…”

Maraas had gotten pretty good at interpreting at Cole’s cryptic comments, but her mind was clouded. She found it impossible to wade through the mire of her head to reach understanding and simply groaned in response and flopped her metallic arm over her eyes to block out the world. Relief flooded her as sleep finally seemed to be on the fringes when Cole spoke again.

“You reminded her of a dream from long ago on the beach,” he said, not turning to catch her surprised expression, “But one that turned into a nightmare when her father stopped playing with her.”

Her brow crumpled in consternation, the meaning behind his words obvious. While she normally tried to discourage Cole from using other’s thoughts to heal hurts, she couldn’t help but pay particular attention to this tidbit of emotion from Josephine. A loud snore from Blackwall erupted behind her and interrupted her train of thought. She breathed in deeply and relaxed her face, preparing for sleep once more.

“Thanks, Cole.”

\---------

They were nearing the tip of Lake Calenhad and the Inquisitor grit her teeth in frustration. The caravan headed towards the Waking Sea and there was no way for her team to catch them if they set sail, not in time to save the elves. She was surprised by the reckless pace the slavers were making. No doubt their captives were injured and hungry. She determined to ride through the night in order to catch them, with or without her team. There would be no failure.

A shadow trailed along the side of the path they were taking and Maraas held up a hand to signal a stop. Her other hand went to her scabbard, flicking the sword up with a thumb. It proved unnecessary as the unknown strolled out of the foliage, garbed in the uniform of Leliana’s spies. Maraas released her sword and swung a leg up to dismount.

The spy shook his head. “There’s no time. I took out one of their horses, but they’ll be back at it soon enough. Keep following the path and then veer west when you see the Sea.”

Maraas nodded her thanks and then drove her heels into her horse’s sides, leaving the man in the dust.

They found the caravan soon enough. Cole began to moan with all the pain assaulting his consciousness and the Qunari grimaced. She had never really given much thought to the plight of the captured before, only having shut down operations as they started, but now that she could feel their hurt so close, she was all the more resolved.

Hiding their horses among the trees, the group approached the slavers, weapons sheathed. Maraas knew she would kill whoever was in charge, she couldn’t let them live, but the situation needed to be assessed before anything. She eyed the two men arguing, another three on horseback with large swords, and a mage standing next to a rider-less stallion, black and sleek. The mage shouted something in Tevene and one of the men crossed over to the cart with all the elves, taking another horse with him, presumably to hitch to the cart.

It didn’t take long for the guards to realize their presence. They stumbled down from their mounts, greatswords waving in the air and war shouts on the breeze. Maraas felt the cool sensation of a ward settling on her skin; she felt none of the crackling and pinching that some people claimed. Perhaps it was because she, unlike most Qunari and even just people in general, accepted all things as good until proven otherwise. Dorian had yet to use his magic to harm her and therefore she continued to trust him.

Without further ado, she slid her sword from its sheath on her hip and raced forward, emitting a cry of her own. She blocked the first blow and quickly flipped a dagger from her belt to swipe upwards at the man’s belly. She registered Blackwall exchanging blows with the other two guards and Dorian masterfully twirling his staff in the direction of the enemy mage. Cole was nowhere in her peripheral vision, so she assumed he was doing the smart thing and incapacitating the two men who were fighting earlier.

She watched as her combatant slid to the ground, a large slash in the stomach effectively putting him down. Maraas flicked her head towards the wagon with the captives to see both men slumped over the hitch. Again towards Blackwall to find him still battling a wheezing mercenary; he’d be down soon enough. Thoughts of their families pushed at her compassionate nature and she forced them away to deal with the task at hand.

Dorian shouted something and Maraas watched as he fell to one knee. He flung his arm out for one last spell before collapsing. She whipped around to see the enemy sprint towards the cart and hold out his staff. The Qunari flipped her dagger in her hand to hold it by the blade and threw it towards the Tevene. It sunk into his thigh and he dropped into the grass. The elves cheered her as she stalked towards the man who was still trying to crawl towards the front of the caged cart. When she reached him, she ripped the bloody dagger out of his leg, yanked his head up by his hand, and held the knife to his throat.

“Are you working for a magister or are you solitary?” she barked, letting the edge draw a drop of blood. His eyes were wild in their sockets, looking at anywhere but her intimidating figure.

“What does it matter?” he asked, “You’ll kill me either way.”

She tightened her grip and he gasped. “If you were a magister’s pet, I’d pray to the Maker for your soul. At least then I could believe you were not totally guilty in this matter.”

“What does an ox-bitch know about the Maker?” the mage spat. She gave him a piercing look before sliding the knife across his throat. He gurgled a bit before his eyes went dull. Maraas dropped his head into the blood-stained grass and climbed to her feet.

The elves clamored at the door to the cage and she broke the lock with her sword. They spilled out like children in the nursery at Skyhold when their parents retrieved them. Her eyebrows pulled together when she saw a heavily pregnant woman being led out by a young man, who sat her down on the edge of the wagon. The woman cradled her belly and took deep breaths.

“Is she alright?” Maraas asked the man, approaching the two.

“It’s been a rough few days,” he said, crouching next to the elf. There was no way she would have made it across the Waking Sea. None of the elves in the group had any healer training, most likely, and she would have died giving birth. Even that chance wasn’t completely gone yet.

“We’ve recently established a camp on Calenhad. Do you think you make it another day?”

The woman, pale and shivering and obviously sick, gave her a pained look. “I will try, my lady.”

\----

That night, she helped the woman give birth. It was a messy affair, with screams renting the air periodically. The camp thankfully had a healer but she could do so much and, in the end, could only save the babe.

As the elf woman lay dying with the child in her arms, she called for the Inquisitor. Maraas was pained that she could not save her; she had come too late. The rough ride in the caravan combined with next to no food or water had forced an early birth, but the child would live and that, at least, she was grateful for.

She sat on her haunches beside the new mother in the healer’s tent. When the elf lifted her eyes, Maraas could see that she knew she was going to die and the Qunari ached for her. Soon, the child would have no mother.

“I thank you, Inquisitor, for saving my brethren and I,” the elf rasped, clutching the bundle of blankets to her too-thin chest, “But I fear it is my time.”

Maraas bowed her head. She felt sorrow for this poor woman. She had heard of women dying in childbirth, but had never been so close to it before.

“They killed my husband when they were taking us. My baby has no one to go back to.”

Another stab in the heart. At best, the child would end up in the orphanage. At worst…

“I beg a favor from you, my lady. Please, take my baby.”

Maraas’ eyes flew open and her head whipped up. She gaped at the frail woman whose name she didn’t even know, who she just met earlier that day. She saw the desperate plea in those glossy green eyes, beseeching. Her softer nature got the best of her and a lump built in her throat; her eyes burned with unshed tears.

“I—are you sure? I don’t know if I—” She stopped mid-sentence. Her hands clenched in her lap as she realized what was happening. The Maker was giving her a gift and who was she to decline? She and Josie would have a child, simple as this, and she would be helping someone in the process. It was almost too good to be true.

“I would be honored,” she said, bowing as far as her seated position would let her. The woman cried her thanks, hugging her baby who wailed along with her.

\------

Once again, Maraas arrived at Skyhold, but this time in a carriage bought in Redcliffe when she realized that riding a horse with a baby would prove difficult. A wet nurse, hired among the humans, also accompanied her, all too happy to feed an elven baby in exchange for gold. The Inquisitor gazed down at the small life in her arms, sleeping finally after a considerably longer journey. She worried how Josephine would take such an addition, but she would find out soon.

The mother named the child before she died. ‘Sahlin,’ she had said, ‘Because, now, in this moment, I know her.’ And then she was gone. Maraas wept for the woman she didn’t know, wept for the joy that was now hers. She felt terribly guilty for her happiness, but decided that this is what the Maker wanted.

She climbed the steps towards Josephine, careful not to jostle the baby too much. As she entered the Main Hall, she could hear the whispers from the visiting nobles begin and grow in volume. None of them would be as interesting as were she a man walking in with a child in his arms, but she’d leave them to their gossip. She had more important matters to deal with.

She pushed open the door to the antechamber with her backside. As lightly as her size would allow, she stepped into the ever-warm room. And there was Josephine, at her desk as always. Leliana stood in front of her, though, whispering things to her friend.

Maraas coughed softly. “If you would excuse us, Leliana.”

With an unreadable look towards the little bundle, the redhead nodded and glided out of the room, eyes straight ahead.

Josephine moved before Maraas could and was in front of her faster than the Qunari thought possible. She sucked in a breath when she saw the small elven face, appearing even smaller in the giant’s arms. She pressed thin fingers to her lips in faint surprise. Conflicting emotions crossed the woman’s face: incredulity, hope, fear, wonder. Maraas had not meant to force such a decision on her beloved so quickly, but circumstances prevented otherwise.

“It’s true,” she breathed in her pretty accent. Everything about her emanated shock, but her voice trembled with something a bit more.

“I assume our little birdie told you the details,” Maraas said, referring to Leliana. Ever since she had learned that the spymaster was called Nightingale, she had taken to joking about her being the Inquisition’s ‘little bird’ who told them everything.

“Yes, but…I thought she had to be joking.”

“Yes, well, as you can see, this is quite serious.”

“Indeed,” Josephine whispered, lowering her hands. Her amber eyes flicked in between Maraas and Sahlin, uncertain, torn between something the Qunari could only guess at. Finally, she said, “May I hold her?”

Maraas beamed and carefully placed her in the Antivan’s arms, captivated by the expression on her face. It was one of wonderment and apprehension, her fears evident in her eyes. Josie wandered over to sit on the chaise, as taken in by the child as Maraas was. The Qunari sat behind her, smiling in pure satisfaction when Josephine sucked in a breath as Sahlin opened her eyes. They shone hazel, a shade somewhere between Josephine’s and her own muddy pond color. It only enforced her idea that this babe was a Maker-given gift.

“What do you think? Can we keep her?” Maraas said. She snaked an arm around her lover’s waist, waiting for the answer but knowing that the baby would stay either way; she was already too far in love with the creature.

“Are we even ready for this sort of responsibility?” Josephine worried. She had negotiated with dwarves and single-handedly organized the restoration of a noble house and she was concerned over their ability to raise a child. Maraas laid her unoccupied hand on the top of the baby’s head, completely covering the tiny thing.

“Only one way to find out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what to do :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maraas learns something new about Josephine and does not like what she hears.

It took quite a bit of coaxing to get Josephine to visit the nursery on a regular basis. Although she wouldn’t admit it, Maraas knew that the stares in the Main Hall were too much for the diplomat. She was normally doing damage control for the Inquisition, not the source of the gossip herself. To say it unnerved Josephine was an understatement; the woman was absolutely mortified to walk out among the nobles as often as Maraas did to visit their new child.

It was not that she did not adore the child; that was obvious whenever the couple visited together or Maraas brought the babe to Josephine in the antechamber. She would coo and play with her, the Inquisitor face seeming to split with happiness as she watched them. As soon as the door opened, however, Sahlin would be handed off to Maraas and Josephine would straighten back into her charismatic self.

At least now she knew what Cole meant about the blindfolds. Josephine was afraid of all the gossip, afraid of the ever-peering eyes of The Game. Maraas sympathized with her lover, although she couldn’t admit to quite understanding why she cared so much, especially when it came to their child. She would be patient, though. She always was.

Bull was the first to visit the new addition. He was a bit disappointed that he wasn’t the sire, Maraas found much to her amusement, but he was entirely enchanted from the first moment Sahlin gave him the closest semblance of a smile the newborn could muster. It was somewhat strange to see the giant in the nursery now, allowing small children to climb all over him like a tree while the nursemaids watched on anxiously.

The rest of the Inner Circle was quick to follow. Even Vivienne sent her congratulations eventually, worded fairly condescendingly, through a raven, which Leliana presented to her disdainfully. The New Divine was never a favorite among the Circle, but she gained them some very important allies. Josephine urged her to respond with a thank-you letter, much to Maraas’ chagrin.

Sera was a bit wary at first. She acted like a pet mabari whose mistress decided to favor the new baby instead of her. Maraas had be careful to give Sera enough attention to keep her from sulking, which included continuously pulling pranks whenever she wasn’t with Sahlin. One day, though, she had fallen asleep in her quarters, Sahlin herself resting peacefully in a crib brought up by one of the servants. She had bolted awake when a sharp squeal pierced her ears, but only found Sera, leaning contentedly against the structure and dangling a worn doll by its foot above the smaller elf. Sera hadn’t seemed to notice the Inquisitor now staring at them, a tender smile on her face.

Sahlin was paraded around by Maraas whenever she got the chance. She was so proud of her new edition that she wanted the entirety of Skyhold to share in her happiness. Of course, Josephine rarely joined her, especially when important nobles came to visit, but she understood why. It began to irk her, however, when Josephine all but denied the child as her own in front of a diplomat from Orzammar. The Qunari had given her lover an incredulous look while clutching her baby to her breast. She was only too glad that Sahlin couldn’t understand words yet.

Their relationship slowly devolved into arguing and periods of time where they refused to even look at each other. Maraas’s patience had finally reached a breaking point; no longer would she tolerate Josephine’s denial of their child.

“Who cares about the damn nobles, Josie?” the Qunari asked her, desperately. She had finally realized that it was them that Josephine was hiding Sahlin from, as if the elf didn’t even exist.

“I do, since you obviously don’t,” was the response. Maraas only stared at the woman, cogs in her head whirring before the clicked to a stop.

“It’s because she’s an elf,” Maraas whispered, the realization dawning on her. Josephine was capitulating to those racist _assholes_ over their own child, “You’ll be seen with me, but not an _elf._ ”

It was too much. She expected more of Josephine that this. A member of Thedas’s largest multicultural organization and she still couldn’t overcome the stigma of being associated with elves. She numbly stumbled out of the antechamber, ignoring whatever pleas from the Antivan were tossed at her back.

Her feet carried her to the nursery, emptied of all children save her own, as it was late in the day. Dorian was there, sitting on the stone floor and shooting sparks of magic into the air, half spells for the delight of four month old Sahlin. The baby, sitting between Dorian’s folded legs for support, giggled at whatever shapes she saw, reaching towards them with pudgy fingers. Little wisps of light hair topped her head and curled around her pointed ears. Maraas’s breast ached with love for this little wonder and for the pain her other mother caused.

She sat down heavily in a chair reinforced with iron, brought in after the previous dainty furniture splintered under her weight. Muscle weighs more than fat, and she indeed had a lot of muscle. Dorian glanced at her when she came in before returning his attention to the little one. After a few moments of silence, he spoke, still sparking magic for the little girl.

“I’m not very good with…feelings, you know,” he said, drily, “But I know enough to be able to say that Josephine looks like a flushed rabbit whenever she sees Sahlin.”

She gave him an exasperated look. “I know! But she hasn’t gotten any better and I don’t think she plans to. She’s content to simply…be a mother when it suits her.”

“So like all nobles,” he joked. Her expression didn’t change, so his expression shifted back to sullen, “A lot of those Orlesian nobles only parent when it suits them. Basically, when they can take care of themselves.”

Maraas stayed silent, elbows resting on her knees and back hunched. Sahlin finally seemed to take noticed of her mother and squealed for her attention. Dorian grinned under his mustache and shrugged at the little girl when she received no response. Sahlin pitched forward suddenly and he reached out in alarm, arm shooting out to curl around her belly and support her. But she simply planted her hands on the stone floor and climbed out of his lap, crawling haltingly towards the large Qunari. Her lips were pressed thinly in concentration as she made slowly progress to her mother.

Finally she reached her, Dorian behind her like a worried nursemaid. Sahlin sat back on her haunches, feet kicked out. She sat up, back straight and arms reaching beseechingly towards Maraas. The woman looked down at her baby, stunned to see her sitting up on her own. She glanced up at Dorian questioningly and he simply shook his head, smiling. Maraas lifted the elf into her arms, hugging her lightly. A small coo in her ear and then the babe was asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not as long as some of the other ones, but I felt that I needed to get something out. Life's a bit hectic in between moving, exams, and... living? I don't know. Would you guys believe me that my time is spent either studying or playing Dragon Age like my life depends on it?


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Josephine reveals all.

Josephine began to completely avoid both Maraas and Sahlin, choosing to throw herself into her diplomatic duties. She even began to skip meetings, sending an elven servant (the Qunari believed this was intentional) in her stead with paperwork and notes. As Inquisitor, Maraas was sorely disappointed that the Antivan would let personal feelings interrupt her normally impeccable work; as a lover and mother, however, she was simply sad.

Maraas forlornly watched her baby toddle on unsteady legs around the Inquisitor’s room, cooing and grabbing at the air. The child’s first birthday was fast approaching and the thought of both mothers not being there tore at the Qunari’s heart. Sahlin had begun to speak and referred to Maraas as ‘mama’ and Josephine as ‘mommy', and frequently asked where mommy was.

Maraas’ head dropped into her hand as she hunched over on the bed, distressed and overwhelmed. She still loved Josephine but she couldn’t help but feel that, if she had to choose between her lover or the baby, Maraas would choose the tiny elf every time. Sahlin may not be blood, but she was family, her _kadan._ And so was Josephine, and always would be, but this was driving a wedge in their relationship.

“Where mommy?” A little voice penetrated the woman’s wall of woe. She looked up to see her daughter holding onto the bannister bars, looking down the staircase. The Inquisitor heaved herself up ever so slowly, looking like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders, and crossed the stone floor to the curious child. She crouched behind her and mimicked Sahlin’s position, peering down towards the Main Hall

“I don’t know, _kadan_ ,” she murmured. to her precious one, “I don’t know.”

\----------------

“Why must you always muss my hair, you little terror?” Dorian grumbled behind Maraas, once again pulling Sahlin’s longer than average fingers from his perfectly sculpted coif. The elf squealed from her position on his shoulders and immediately buried her hands back into her ebony locks. Maraas caught the beginning of a muttered _venhedis_ and she shot him a warning look over her shoulder. He gave a loud sigh and continued up the stairs after the Qunari. The mother and daughter were on their way up to her room to play with the soon-to-be birthday girl and Dorian insisted on accompanying them, absolutely besotted as he was with the elf.

“You should really think about getting her a new wardrobe, being an important--” Dorian suggested, before stopping abruptly as he bumped into the Qunari’s back. He raised a hand to steady his passenger, a question on his lips. Maraas stood stock still at the top of the stairs, eyes locked on something across the room. He followed the woman’s gaze from under the bannister and saw what had shocked the most powerful woman in Thedas.

Josephine stood in the middle of the room, hands folded in front of her and chin lifted high. Her silk clothing looked especially shiny and smooth, every fold deliberate and purposeful. Although her face spoke of calm, the Qunari caught the slight twitch of that slender eyebrow and the almost imperceptible downturn of those dark lips. She clearly came with something to say and wouldn’t leave until she said it.

Out of the corner of her eye, Maraas saw Dorian lift Sahlin off his shoulders and hold the baby in front of him. He wasn’t even her father and yet he held her with the same amount of protectiveness a real parent would afford. Such a tremendous change had come over this man since the child had entered their lives. Before all this, if someone had told Maraas that the Tevene would act like _this_ , she would have laughed at them. But, now, he was softer and seemed to see more around him. ‘If only Josie would be like that,’ she thought morosely.

“Well, this is awkward,” Dorian said dryly. “I will take my leave and accept this child as my parting gift. Good day.”

She shot him a grateful look and then turned her attention back to the human in front of her. She could hear Sahlin asking about her mommy as they departed, and her chest ached. As soon as she heard the door shut at the bottom of the stairwell, the Qunari closed the gap between herself and Josephine and simply looked down at her lover. Josephine returned her gaze, but after only moments tore her eyes away, biting her lip. Maraas lifted a grey hand to cup her cheek and turn her face back to her own.

They stood there for what felt like an endless amount of time. She could feel the space between them after so long spent apart, despite the mere inches separating them. The sorrow she felt in her heart reflected in the golden eyes staring up at her. Slowly, she dropped her arm and, closing her eyes, she plodded heavily to the sumptuous bed and sat on the edge of it. Maraas let her head fall into hands and breathed a massive sigh.

“This is it, isn’t it,” she said, not looking at the other woman. “You’ve come to tell me you’re going back to Antiva because you can’t stand being here any longer.”

She felt a slight weight on the mattress beside her, the bed only giving part way under the diminutive form now beside her.

“No,” Josephine said, softly, but firmly. “Even if I did end… us, my responsibilities here mean much more than my personal life.”

The Inquisitor turned her head to look at the anxious woman beside her. The human was staring at her hands, folded neatly in her lap. Her eyelashes brushed her cheeks and her lips pursed prettily and Maraas, although lacking any semblance of artistic talent, felt the sudden urge to paint a picture of the beauty before her. This immaculate, Maker-given woman, who seemed to suffer so. She did feel a slight weight lift off her chest, however, that this wasn’t the end, despite months without speaking to each other.

“I want to tell you why. Why I’m being like this. Why I’m so… scared.”

Josephine waited a few moments, as if expecting some comment from Maraas, but after receiving nothing, she simply took a deep breath and began.

“When I was young, my family was very close. We didn’t have much more money than the lowest noble house, but I think that brought us closer together. We spent so much time together and I always wondered if those times were all just a dream. We were so happy.

“We lived near the beach in Antiva and sometimes we would pack a picnic and spend all day there. My father would always help me build castles in the sand, saying we’d live in an enormous castle of our own someday, bigger than Halamshiral. My mother would always watch over us; she was always there, hovering, keeping us safe and out of harm’s way. My brothers and sister and I never had to worry when they were around. They loved us.

“And then one day, they just… stopped. It wasn’t so bad at first; sometimes they were busy and we understood. Soon, though, we hardly ever saw them. The nice clothes and new tutors may have distracted some of the others, but I… I never forgot. Their work consumed them and they didn’t have half as important work as I do. If I ever did that to my children, I couldn’t forgive myself…”

Josephine hadn’t moved throughout her entire speech, but as she finished, a single tear rolled down her cheek. Maraas watched as it dripped off her pointed chin to her clasped hands below, vaguely remembering what Cole had said so long ago. The Qunari began to move towards her _kadan_ when she began speaking again.

“So I tried to just move away from the both of you. I thought if maybe you thought I hated you or resented you, you would just let me go. But I saw the looks you would give me. And I saw Sahlin and how much you love her and I wanted that, too. I want a family and I want _her_. I just couldn’t bear it any longer.”

At this point, the tears flowed freely down the woman’s dark skin. The Qunari pulled her lover into her arms and felt the tears soak into her cotton shirt. She thought she could never forgive what Josie had done these past few months… but all of that was undone. Never again would she let that happen. As the diplomat began to sob loudly, Maraas murmured softly in Qunlat, as sweet as the harsh words could be.

Eventually, Josephine devolved into choked hiccups, with her love softly rocking her in her thick arms. Glancing quickly at the setting sun visible from her balcony, Maraas thought of Sahlin stuck with Dorian. She set Josie aside and knelt in front of her; she was still large enough to be eye level with her lover as she held her puffy, tear-streaked face in her calloused palms. Their eyes met and, inch by inch, their lips met. The kiss was soft and slow, a simple conveyance of devotion and love. When they parted, the Antivan’s cheeks were dusted a light pink, only visible to the trained eye. Maraas stood and held out a hand to her lover.

“Come,” she beckoned, smiling at her dear one. “Somebody has been waiting for you.”

\----------

They threw the most lavish party a one-year old had ever seen. The parents spared no expense for their beloved daughter, despite the fact that the young girl would never remember it. Dorian behaved himself throughout the day, only deigning to drink one bottle of the antique Antivan wine provided. He was otherwise engaged with his new little companion, who squealed and cooed at every decoration and fancifully adorned wall. The entire circle seemed to thoroughly enjoy themselves, especially when given the chance to play with the birthday girl.

The nobles that attended the Inquisitions court on a daily basis only frowned slightly at the festivities before joining in the merriment, mixing with the common folk without much care, for at least one day. Of course, there were some who wouldn’t get over their disapproval of the entire affair, but the family didn’t pay them any mind. They were finally together.

Later that evening, they held a private party of their own. Sahlin, although visibly tired, still smiled at her loving mothers, sleepy eyed and yawning. They gave her a plush nug they commissioned a craftsmen in Skyhold to make, a friend to lull her to sleep for years to come. All three of them crawled into bed and, with Sahlin clutching her new toy to her small chest between them, fell asleep with smiles on their faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter, courtesy of an interested reader! Thanks for sticking around guys, despite my horrid update time :)


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